


The Nude Session

by fangirl_feminista



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: M/M, i'm seriously tempted to include a titanic meme here, tbh kisa shouta is a work of art, who are we kidding we don't need a date we just need our ships to get it on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_feminista/pseuds/fangirl_feminista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The topmost button opens, revealing a smooth neck and a promise of more to show.</p><p>“We could start now.”</p><p>Kisa’s hands skim over his shirt, unbuttoning it with such ease that his fingers seem to be dancing down the article of clothing. Yukina looks down, hardening his resolve (yes, only his resolve is hardening).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nude Session

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to darkangel1211 for this being so delayed. Happy Valentines, west side of the world!

It started out innocently enough. It was one of the few times that they hung out at the Yukina’s pad downtown. Kisa might believe that Yukina favors his apartment to accommodate the editor’s workload-from-hell. But in truth, part of it is the nagging insecurity Yukina can’t fend off. It's troublesome to see his beautiful lover in stark contrast of his drab studio, sitting on his nondescript, cracked floor, racking for a snack in his bare kitchen, and prancing naked inside his cramped bedroom.

Shouta Kisa is an accomplished, financially-stable professional, sexually-experienced and confident in his sexy-ass skin. While Yukina knows he holds a lot of promise as well, his Prince Charming-good looks and part-time bookstore job seem superficial in comparison. Come to think of it, as an art student, none of his professors have ever said that he’s—

“—damn good. _Chefceptional_!” Kisa exclaimed in struggling English, his eyes lit and the stress erased from his face. If Yukina gets to have this reaction every time he cooks, he might cook until the end of his days. That hearty compliment didn’t hurt either, even if it’s about something as mundane as his cooking.

And that grin wasn’t off his face yet. With his high schooler face and lithe physique, Kisa looked every bit a devious youth. And damn, he does get very naughty with his—

“Tongue. My tongue is in paradise,” he sighed blissfully. “Thank you.”

Sparkles instantly appeared around Yukina’s smile. “Thank _you_. For being here with me.”

Kisa’s easy grin dissipated, and suddenly Yukina was afraid that he’d said something wrong. What was it? Well, he was just thanking him for being there with him. Wait, was that too weird? Did it sound insecure, _needy_? Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. He knew Kisa had an issue about clingy people.

The editor put down his bowl and, staring intently at him, said resolutely, “Thank you. For being you. For being a brilliant and wonderful person and for sticking around with this old cranky guy with zero score on the fun department. You make me want to do better, be better.”

Yukina had no idea what to say. All his suave lines had left him. He just stared back.

Then Kisa’s cool moment was officially over.

“Ugh, no, I mean—“ Kisa spluttered while looking away, completely flushed up to his neck and ears. Yukina knew it was completely immature, but he adored him. “I mean, well, just…just stop looking at me like that!”

When Kisa risked another glance at his boyfriend, he was still staring raptly at his embarrassment. He quickly averted his eyes to the drab floor. Yukina thought he looked so cute he was practically _begging_ to be teased.

“Looking at you like what, Kisa-san?” he asked a little too innocently, leaning across the table and invading Kisa’s personal space. He loved the fact that despite how uncomfortable he looked, he didn’t pull away. Because Kisa will never let anyone but Yukina get that close.

Except when he had. When he had let countless men do so before they even met.

Dread began rising in the Yukina as he anticipated the pang of jealousy that usually comes after that kind of sinking thought. _Damn._ Damn it, he couldn’t be thinking this, _shouldn’t_ , not when he promised to shelve the past. Not when he had the person he loves right there, in his apartment, telling Yukina he made him want to be a better man.

“Hey, Yukina,” Kisa prodded, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “What is it?”

He made an effort to unfreeze his smile. “Nothing. Um, I just remembered something about school.”

Kisa frowned slightly, not believing him for a second. Because really, when has schoolwork ever distracted him from his lover? If anything, it’s his lover that often distracts him in school. In _everywhere_. Like how those lips looked like then, pursed somewhat in a pout, still slightly red from his blushing and almost how it looks like when he—

“What’s wrong?” the editor shifted into interrogation mode, curiosity and concern full-blown. This time, it’s him who leaned over the table. “Tell me.”

That commanding voice comes up but a few times, and every time it does it makes Yukina half-anxious, half-aroused.

“School. Uh, yeah. We have a...” Yukina racked his brain for anything distinctive and true. He’s a terrifically horrible liar after all, so Kisa would've see right through any alibi. “Ah, yes! We have a nude painting session next week.”

The room temperature dropped about ten degrees. Yukina’s sparkles froze when he realized what just happened.

“Uh, Kisa-san…” he muttered, mainly to diffuse the tension. “Is this…”

“That’s exciting,” Kisa commented like he was talking about the weather. He picked up his chopsticks and resumed eating. Yukina relaxed and decided to do the same. “I bet you’ve done it a lot of times before, but staring at tits and pussies for a couple of hours might still hold some interest.”

Yukina’s eyes widened. “Kisa-san, please don’t misunderstand, there’s definitely no—”

“Oh, the last train is about to get on!” Kisa said, eyes on the wall clock. He put his bowl down and picked up his coat.

“Kisa-san,” Yukina repeated in a firm tone, determined not to let things like this hang about and get in the way again.

“Yukina, you’re an art student,” Kisa interrupted, shrugging noncommittally. “Of course you’ll have nude sessions. I myself, as an editor, have seen my fair share of _yaoi_ in paper and their real life inspirations in the flesh.”

Yukina almost choked on his miso soup. But before he can fully process what Kisa had just said, he felt a short but positively non-innocent peck on his slightly gaping lips. Without waiting for a response, his visitor bounded on his feet and headed straight towards the door.

“Oh, and Yukina, one thing,” Kisa casually said while looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “Our next date is in your campus. You’re gonna practice by painting me first.”

* * *

The topmost button opens, revealing a smooth neck and a promise of more to show.

“We could start now.”

Kisa’s hands skim over his shirt, unbuttoning it with such ease that his fingers seem to be dancing down the article of clothing. Then it falls, revealing a lean but lightly muscled torso and slightly defined abs. The skin on display is smooth and fair. Yukina looks down, hardening his resolve (yes, only his _resolve_ is hardening).

_‘I’m about to paint Kisa-san in the nude. This is an amazing opportunity. I will not screw it up. I will not screw it up.’_

Not for a second does Kisa take his eyes off Yukina as he unbuttons and unzips his skinny jeans. He sits down on the enormous bed, then pauses in undressing. The model pats the plush bedding, as if in invitation. His painter swallows. Then Kisa lies down at the reclined surface, pulling at his jean legs. Yukina glimpses the bulge beneath the boxers. It takes all his willpower to look away as that last piece is taken off.

“You can’t paint me without looking at me,” Kisa says, his voice coolly offhanded but his eyes dangerously glinting. Yukina does not need much more encouragement to indulge himself. “Are you thinking about how you will do me?” Kisa prods, his voice now mildly teasing.

Yukina breathes deeply to slow his racing heartbeat.

“Oil. Definitely oil,” he says as calmly as he can before picking up his brush and palette.

Mind over matter. As an art student, this is certainly not the first time Yukina has painted a naked man. But this is also the first nude session that he’s ever felt such hot and restless _something_ roaring through his entire body. It’s the kind of desire that makes his blood boil and his breathing labored. Just when he thought he finally has it reigned in, his model interrupts his concentration.

“This won’t do, would it?” Kisa sighs innocently. “How utterly _boring_ it would be, a painting of a nude little boy with a tiny limp dick. We don’t want your professor ragging on you again, do we?”

To say that Yukina’s face has flushed would be a ridiculous understatement. His brain simply stopped functioning. Without missing a beat, Kisa wraps his fingers around his cock and starts masturbating.

“This,” the editor starts as he makes a maddeningly slow stroke down his half-hard length, “This is much better, don’t you think?”

“Shouta-san,” Yukina growls in a husky voice that sends a shiver down Kisa’s spine. He pulls his paint-smudged overalls off, approaching the bed with long, purposeful strides. He almost loses patience with his shirt as he takes it off in one fluid motion. Without giving his partner time so much as to blink, he pounces on him and entraps him with strong arms. Kisa could only moan as Yukina crushes his lips and opens his mouth almost viciously. As he tips his neck back to breathe, Kisa’s head bangs against the wall. Yukina stifles his whine of pain with a deep kiss and massages the bruised spot, before fiercely pulling at his soft, black hair.

Gathering what force Kisa has left is difficult, but he manages to, and proceeds to flip them over. Sitting on top of Yukina, he grinds the entrapped hardness with his own exposed and engorged cock. He languidly moves his hips, applying a sultry slinking pressure on Yukina. Then he puts both hands on the sides of his trunk, twisting as he pants heavily in pleasure.

“Shouta-san,” Yukina groans, unable to take any more of the teasing. “Shouta-san, just—I need to be inside you. Now.”

It is cheesy and sickeningly sweet and exactly the kind of thing Yukina would say in a way that it sounds unbelievably romantic and sexy. And that face—it’s _beautiful_ damn it—is Kisa’s perpetual weakness. But he is determined that this time will be different. This time will be something a painter would remember even while staring at a naked woman.

Kisa leans down until his lips are resting on Yukina’s. “Kou, I want,” he panted, tongue darting out for a final lick before he pulls at his lover’s lower lip. “I want you to finish that painting. Now.”

Without warning, Kisa pushes himself off Yukina’s lap.

Yukina finds himself utterly stupefied for the second time.

“Oh, go on,” comes the nonchalant encouragement. With a quick glance at his own obvious hard-on, Kisa adds, “I’m not so uncomfortable. After all, my cock is out in the open.”

Which reminds Yukina of his own predicament, and the pulsing pain trapped in his jeans.

Nevertheless, he has no choice but to continue. _“When this is done,”_ is the driving force in Yukina’s head, blaring like the university speakers over and over again. Fortunately, it’s enough (but _just_ barely) to get him going.

In less than an hour more, his newest masterpiece is done.

“Well, let me see,” Kisa prompts in a tone that personifies a straitlaced editor asking for a manuscript, rather than a nude model with an amazingly still-rock hard manhood. He casually saunters over to Yukina (those hips, was he imagining it swinging?) and grabs the framed canvas off its wooden stand. He inspects the work with small nods of approval.

Looking unabashedly into his boyfriend’s eyes, Kisa says, “This is awesome. All that posing got me hungry, though. Lunch?”

Yukina can be dense, but not quite that much. When Kisa turns his back—and his deliciously tight ass—on him, Yukina grabs his behind with one hand and his cock with the other. Kisa gasps at the sudden pressure on his hardness. Without meaning to, he leans further back into Yukina and puts a hand on his own mouth to stop a moan from escaping.

“Lunch. Definitely,” Yukina growls into Kisa’s ear before licking and biting it exactly the way his own lips were teased earlier.

This is not Yukina Kou, the hopeless romantic and gentle prince. His impatient fingers travel down Kisa’s body, brushing down his chest, stomach and hips, then eagerly kneading on the firm ass. It’s a good thing that his partner isn’t wearing a thing, or whatever it is won’t be a wearable piece after he’s done.

They tumble towards the day bed, hands not leaving each other’s skin. Kisa gasps for air but Yukina has no plans on stopping, in fact he seems intent on smothering him completely. Kisa is completely naked in the airconditioned room but his skin is on fire. He’s lightheaded with lack of oxygen and blind with lust. Just as Kisa thinks he’s about to fall faint, Yukina lets his lips go and finds purchase on his neck, hot mouth traveling down the path his fingers previously made. When his lips brush a nipple, Kisa’s whole body shivers. Taking the cue, Yukina’s tongue darts out to form lazy circles around the sensitive skin before he takes it in his mouth, sucking hard. Kisa moans louder and more desperately, hands clutching at his sweat-soaked hair.

It’s more than enough to push Yukina over the edge. He hastily pulls his pants and boxers off and sighs in relief when his cock escapes the agonizingly offending denim. Kisa’s small chuckle snaps his attention right back.

Those lips. So fucking cheeky and wanton as sin.

Ignoring the slightly disturbing and uncharacteristic cursing in his head, Yukina assaults Kisa’s mouth again, growling his name between breaths. Without thinking, Yukina positions his dripping cock against his lover’s puckered hole. Kisa’s half-lidded eyes fly wide open.

“Shit,” Yukina gasps in horror. “Shit, shit, shit. Lube. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t—”

In an instant, Kisa’s face twists into a wild bout of laughter.

“Shouta-san!” Yukina exclaims, bewildered.

“Yukina,” he gasps in between laughs. “I prepared myself before we came here. But I hadn’t expected you to jump me without remembering to loosen me up. Usually I can do without, but if it’s you, you’d probably rip me apart.”

“Shouta-san!” Yukina is now flustered and covering his face with both hands.

Kisa’s laughter suddenly cuts off. Before Yukina can blink, his back is on the bed, his lover straddling him securely in place 

“I can see that you’re more prepared than I am,” Kisa whispers breathily, locking him with a predatory stare. “It’s a great painting. Don’t you deserve an A+?”

Yukina’s response turns into a helpless groan when Kisa descends on his cock in one swift motion. The warm, slick tightness is an indescribable reprieve. Kisa throws his head back as he rides.

Art. This—this sight right there in front of him—Yukina couldn’t think of anything more a masterpiece. He couldn’t think _at all_. Slick skin pounding on slick skin, hot flesh thudding frantically at each frenzied contact.  Kisa thrusts Yukina into himself, wheezing _“Kou, Kou, Kou”_ again and again in that sultry voice that’s so distinctively his, mindlessly fucking him while half-moaning, half-pleading. Yukina drinks the sight in—from the shiny black hair sticking to Kisa’s flushed face, to the drops of sweat going down his reddened nipples, to the inflamed and dripping cock, fully erect. He licks his lips and wraps his hand around it, searching for the strength, rhythm and speed that would make Kisa start screaming his name.

When he does, Yukina loses it. With one last thrust at his lover’s sensitive spot, Yukina reaches his orgasm. He feels gratifyingly lewd as he watches his hand rapidly pumping Kisa’s cock until it swells to its fullest and releases. White hot cum sprays Yukina’s broad chest, his flat stomach, dripping down his long fingers.

Kisa takes him by the wrist and lazily sucks cum off of three fingers, provocatively looking up at him through gleaming, half-lidded eyes. Yukina licks his lips.

_How many hours is it before my next class?_

* * *

It’s not like Kisa could proudly hang his butt naked magnificence in his apartment or office, so Yukina happily keeps his masterpiece. Kisa made him swear to anonymize the thing, so with a heavy heart Yukina blurs his model’s face.

But the last time he submitted a portrait of Kisa, the professor who always calls his work “superficial” and “without substance” gave him a shining A.

And this finals is really important.

And…well, Yukina simply cannot wait to show off his lover in all his glory. Kisa Shouta is a work of art, and he is Yukina’s.

When evaluation day comes, the professor, all stiff scowl and scrunched eyebrows, stops right in front of his piece. He squints at the canvas, then casts a suspicious look at Yukina. Afterwards, he glares right back at his paper and scribbles while declaring in a straight voice, “Not so bad. I think I know why.”

As he inspects what exactly his demanding professor saw in this work, Yukina discovers a small splotch of dirty white blended in with the pastels.


End file.
